NovelEnglishWilma was fuming, ready to stand up in protest, but Zoey held her down by the leg.
Zoey smiled at Mr. Colby, "Mr. Colby, you're a straight shooter. Let's shake on it. I'll have my people prepare the contract."
"If Zoey can down it, I'll sign on the dotted line."
Zoey gracefully poured herself a drink, only to be stopped by Wilma who whispered in her ear, "Zoey, this Mr. Colby is clearly up to
no good. Let's get out of here."
She didn't want this endorsement. Zoey chuckled inwardly. Wilma had been well protected in their circle, especially since signing
with Star Movie Group - she had hardly been put in a tight spot.
She was still too green, but maybe that was for the best.
"No worries, you don't have to drink. | will."
"That's not happening."
Wilma snatched the glass and downed it in one gulp. She could hold her liquor, but this was too strong. It felt like her insides were
on fire. She took another, and within a minute, slumped over in her seat.
Zoey sighed, massaging her temples, and poured three more drinks for herself. She finished them in one go and then got up to
help Wilma.
"Mr. Colby, the drinks are done. Tomorrow, I'll have someone from the company discuss the endorsement with you."
Mr. Colby's eyes narrowed, and he stood up too.
"Zoey, you're a good sport. But you both seem plastered. Why not crash at the hotel next door for the night?"
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtZoey was still clear-headed but dizzy. Wilma was a top-tier star; they couldn't have her caught drunk in public.
"No need. Our driver is waiting outside."
"Zoey."
Mr. Colby had poured the drinks; he wasn't about to let his catch slip away. He grabbed Zoey and pulled her close.
"I'll have someone take Ms. Bright home. Why don't you stay the night?"
A jolt of alarm shot through Zoey. She hadn't expected Mr. Colby to be so bold! She tried to push him away, but he was
determined, pinning her against the door.
"Get off me!"
Zoey watched desperately as Mr. Colby's bodyguard escorted Wilma away. Reaching for a vase nearby, she aimed to crack it over
his head.
He was sober and grabbed her wrist nimbly, bringing it to his nose.
"Zoey, you've got fire. | like that."
Zoey was disgusted, "Get lost!"
Mr. Colby got a kick to the groin; he swept everything off the table in a rage, and then pushed Zoey onto it.
"I'm going to have you right here, right now. Stop playing hard to get. I've heard the rumors about you throwing yourself at Fitch
and getting rejected. Your mother's a tramp who can't live without a man, and it looks like you're desperate too, dressing like that!"
Zoey couldn't believe a company president would speak like this.
Her coat buttons were tore away. She kicked Mr. Colby in his sensitive spot and grabbed the broken bottle from the floor, stabbing
at him.
Mr. Colby dodged in time, but not before she cut his skin.
"Damn you, slut!" He lunged after her, hindered by the pain.
Zoey, pale with fear, ran from the room and headed towards the opposite of the hallway.
The restaurant she picked tonight was high class one, with soothing ambient and dimly lit lights. She ended up in the men's room
by mistake, trying to throw Mr. Colby off by leaving one of her high heels by the elevator.
Locking the restroom door, she gasped for air. The alcohol hit her then, and she felt sick.
Fitch had just lit a cigarette when he heard a loud thump from the restroom. He ignored it, flicking ash casually.
The restroom here was spacious; he heard someone's phone ringing, and thought it was his phone. It wasn't.
The ring persisted, but the owner seemed to have no intention to pick it up. Annoyed, he tossed his cigarette and approached the
mirror.
That was when he saw a woman by the sink; half of the lights were off, so he couldn't discern her appearance, only hearing her
phone ring in her pocket as she bowed down and frantically washed her face.
Fitch looked up, casting a glance at the logo on the wall and making certain it was men’s room. Just as he was about to speak, Mr.
Colby's curses cfrom outside.
"You slut, think you can hide fromin here."
The door swung open, and his words were cut short as he saw Fitch standing there, nearly scared out of his wits.
"Mr. Haskins."
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm
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